


something in the heat (of you)

by toomoon (jjjat3am)



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Kissing, M/M, exercise as foreplay, i don't know what to tell you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-23 15:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20342725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/toomoon
Summary: A hot summer day was a perfect excuse to indulge himself with a spot of light exercise in the living room. Too bad it was already occupied by the time Geonhak got there.





	something in the heat (of you)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm frankly a little embarrassed but this fic was inspired by [this tweet.](https://twitter.com/seohoflower/status/1153526374545743873)

Geonhak wiped the sweat from his brow, grimacing at the stain on his thin T-shirt. The air in the dorm was static and muggy, every breath in his chest weighed down by the heat. No one had slept well last night, not even Hwanwoong, who could usually be relied on to sleep through anything.

Tensions were high as a result and after a few snappish conversations, they'd all dispersed to different activities. Dongju and Keonhee had gone shopping, citing air-conditioned shopping malls. Seoho disappeared into RBW's practice facilities for a similar reason. And Hwanwoong was probably at the Ateez dorm, judging by the cagey look on his face as he excused himself. Not only did the other group have bigger dorms, but they also had air condition.

Geonhak couldn't complain - the unexpected solitude meant he was free to indulge himself and he didn't need to be confined to the room for it. It'd been so long since he'd had even a little bit of privacy.

With that thought in mind, Geonhak picked up his dumbells and moved to the living room. There was no way the heat was going to keep him from a few hours of uninterrupted exercise.

Unfortunately, when he got there, the room was already occupied.

Youngjo was sprawled across the hardwood floor under the only fan in the apartment. He was wearing only a pair of shorts, probably pretty old by the way they inched up to show more thigh that was strictly decent, and a threadbare tank top, pulled up enough to expose his lower back to the cool air.

Geonhak noticed all of that and then tucked it away with the ease of long practice. He didn't want to get distracted.

"Hyung," he said and Youngjo made an inarticulate sound of acknowledgment from where his face was pressed into the floor. "Can you get off the floor so I can work out?"

Youngjo made another noise and Geonhak frowned. "What?" he asked. 

Youngjo turned his face so that only his cheek was against the wood. There were little red marks on his skin. He'd probably been lying on the floor for a while.

"No way," he said.

"What?" Geonhak frowned harder, setting his dumbbells down with a crack. "Why not?"

"I'm not moving," Youngjo said. "And if anything, I'm doing you a favor. You'll die if you try working out in this heat."

"It's not that bad," Geonhak said, even if his sweat was already trailing down his back. "Come on, hyung, you can lie on the couch - you'll be more comfortable."

"Nope," Youngjo said, petulantly. Geonhak watched as he laboriously turned around so he was lying on his back, wincing intermittently as his sweaty skin stuck to the wood. The movement made his shirt ride up further, exposing more of his stomach. He'd been putting on muscle recently. Geonhak caught himself contemplating that exposed expanse of skin with its sparse body hair, and made himself look away.

"Hyung, come on, don't be a child," Geonhak scolded, in what he thought was a passable imitation of Dongju. Youngjo said nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a smirk.

It really was hot, he could admit. His body felt sticky and weighed down by his wet shirt. Geonhak only hesitated a moment before he reached for the hem and drew it over his head. He sighed at the brief reprieve as the cool air from the fan swept against his bare skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.

Youngjo was watching him, he suddenly realized. Eyes dark and gaze lidded, Youngjo was staring at him like -

  
_Oh._

Like he was hungry. The way his eyes briefly dipped down to trail over Geonhak’s body left no question as to what he was thinking about.

They two of them hadn't done anything like this in a while. Since way before debut. It's been a while since Geonhak felt whole enough to ask for it. They'd been so busy. And Youngjo had never pushed him.

His gaze felt like a touch against Geonhak's bare skin, heating the pit of his stomach in a way that wasn't at all unpleasant.

"I want to work out here, there's not enough space in the bedroom," Geonhak said, aware that his voice had dropped even lower than usual. He was watching, which is why he noticed Youngjo’s eyes darken further.

“I’m not moving,” Youngjo said and something in his voice made Geonhak believe him. For the most part, their eldest was a pushover. He liked making his friends happy. But when he got stubborn, he really dug his heels in. If he’d decided to occupy the floor of their living room for the foreseeable future, then there wasn’t a lot that Geonhak could do about it. 

Best to just go along with it, really.

“Okay,” he said and watched Youngjo’s eyes widen right before Geonhak dropped on his hands and knees over his body, caging him in. Geonhak smirked, enjoying the upper hand for once. “Pushups first.”

“Good plan,” Youngjo stuttered out. His eyes were trained on Geonhak’s mouth. 

“Didn’t you say that working out in this heat was a terrible plan?” Geonhak asked, barely withholding his grin.

It made him feel powerful, his muscles effortlessly holding him steady, knowing he could drop and crush Youngjo any time he wanted and deciding against it. Youngjo’s wide dark gaze, filled with so much want and intent but letting Geonhak have all the power anyway.

“I changed my mind,” Youngjo breathed out and Geonhak smiled, let himself drop, one flowing controlled movement, just close enough to feel Youngjo’s knuckles brush against his chest and bring his mouth close enough to breathe his air. And then he pulled himself back up.

His usual routine went up to a hundred, but it became apparent very quickly that wasn’t going to happen today. Not because his body couldn’t take it, but because every drop brought him closer to Youngjo’s mouth and that made it hard to want to pull away again. Youngjo watched him moving, barely seeming to breathe, his eyes trained on Geonhak’s mouth and his hands clenched into fists on his stomach.

Right around pushup twenty-five, Geonhak’s control faltered. He dropped down, just a millimeter further and his mouth pressed against Youngjo’s. He got the barest taste of mint before pulling away. The next time he dropped, he lingered. Youngjo kissed back and his mouth was so familiar, it washed away all feelings of uncertainty. Geonhak pulled away and this time Youngjo followed, dropping back to the floor with a sharp sound of frustration. The next time they kissed was off-kilter because of Geonhak’s grin.

Youngjo’s hands stayed in fists on his stomach, not reaching out, even though it was obvious he wanted to. Geonhak stepped up his game - the next time he dropped, he took advantage of Youngjo’s half-open mouth to slip him a bit of tongue. This time when he tried to pull away, Youngjo’s fingers slipped into his hair to keep him in place.

Geonhak let himself drop onto his hands and knees. He settled across Youngjo’s hips, biting down a gasp at the contact. Anyone else, and he would have worried about crushing them, but Youngjo was tougher than he looked. He could take it. And in Geonhak’s experience, he even tended to like it. 

“Oh,” Youngjo breathed, and Geonhak could feel his mouth shaping the words, the sharp intake of breath, the tail end of a moan. “Oh, fuck, you’re so hot.”

Memories flooded in brought back by the heat and the achingly familiar way Youngjo kissed. Geonhak hadn’t allowed himself to think about this much, leaving it to be swallowed by the void of what was after -

It was suddenly almost too much, too intense - fever and sweat and Youngjo’s mouth and the weight in his chest and the liquid heat in the pit of his stomach. His head spun and he scrambled for purchase on the wood floors, sweat making it hard to stay still. He wanted to touch Youngjo everywhere, he wanted to be touched, he wanted everything.

“Hey,” Youngjo whispered against his ear, nose nudging his cheek. “Hey, we don’t need to rush. They won’t be back for hours. We have time.”

Geonhak took a breath. The room was blanketed in the loud white noise of the fan, covering the sound of Youngjo’s soft breathing. It felt slow, but gradually his brain went still and quiet. Youngjo was still nuzzling his cheek, pressing gentle kisses there, his hands holding onto Geonhak’s shoulders. 

Geonhak turned his head to kiss him back. He trailed kisses down his cheek and settled at his neck. There was a spot there that made Youngjo moan if he kissed it and he wasn’t sure if he remembered exactly where it was.

That was okay, though. They had time.

  


*

  


They wound up lying on the floor after, their skin sticking together grossly. Despite that, Geonhak didn’t find himself very inclined to move, curling up so he could put his head on Youngjo’s chest, listening for the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. Youngjo ran his fingers through Geonhak’s hair, seemingly unbothered that it was shorter now than it used to be.

It was that thought that finally prompted Geonhak to speak.

“We hadn’t done that in a while,” he said, aware that he probably wasn’t doing a good job of masking the question in his voice.

“Yeah,” Youngjo said, softly, still carding his fingers through Geonhak’s hair, occasionally dropping down to tickle his neck. It was pleasant enough that Geonhak let out a noise, which in turn made Youngjo laugh.

“Why not?” Geonhak asked before he’d even really thought it through. He prepared himself for the half-dozen utterly plausible excuses, but Youngjo surprised him again. His response rumbled against Geonhak’s cheek, making it momentarily hard to concentrate on the words.

“When you came back, you were so tense, like you were just waiting for everything to fall apart again," Youngjo said and Geonhak had to admit it was a fairly accurate description of his mental state pre-debut. "I didn't want to push you. I didn't want you to feel obligated."

Youngjo trailed off and, face flushing, Geonhak gave a quick squeeze to his middle to replace what he couldn't say.

"What about now?" Geonhak asked, curious despite himself.

"Things are different now," Youngjo said simply. "You're different. More settled. This won't just fall apart around us now."

Youngjo had a way of saying things, with such an unshakeable belief in their truth that you couldn't help but believe him. It's why Geonhak answered his phone call when he was perfectly willing to ignore everyone else. Just like then, he believed him now. The last thread of something cold and hard in his chest finally unknotted, leaving him feeling lighter for it.

"So, what, you've just been hanging around, waiting to proposition me all this time?" Geonhak asked. The heartbeat under his ear was steady and calming - combined with the muggy heat it was suddenly very hard to stay awake.

"Kind of," Youngjo said, sounding amused. "There hasn't really been time or the privacy for it. Dongju is like a bloodhound, I swear he smells it when I'm having dirty thoughts. I always feel like I'll corrupt him by osmosis or something."

Geonhak snorted. "You don't have to worry about Dongju. He knows a lot more than you'd let yourself admit," he said. "If anything, I'm worried about Hwanwoong. He'll kill me for defiling his special hyung."

"Hwanwoong barely reaches your chin, I doubt he could touch you if you didn't want him to," Youngjo pointed out.

"But he can call me in for remedial dance lessons, which are the worst form of torture," Geonhak said, pleased when it made Youngjo laugh.

"I doubt Seoho would be any trouble either," Youngjo said. "He's been leaving condoms in the pockets of my coats for weeks now.”

Geonhak felt heat suffuse his cheeks and he hid his head in Youngjo’s shoulder. The thought of having another thing that Seoho could tease him over was annoying, but oddly soothing at the same time.

“Typical,” Geonhak said, scoffing. “And Keonhee?”

“Keonhee,” Youngjo started and trailed off thoughtfully, “he’ll probably cry, but he won’t really be upset about it.”

“So, what,” Geonhak laughed incredulously, “it’s just going to be that easy?”

“Nothing about this has ever been easy,” Youngjo said gently and it caught in Geonhak’s throat, the enormity of it all, of what they were trying to do, of what they were hoping to be. Youngjo squeezed his hand and the moment passed.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Geonhak said and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“I guess we will,” Youngjo said and pressed a soft kiss against Geonhak’s hair that made his heart flutter wildly in his chest.

Geonhak turned around to squint at the kitchen clock. It wasn’t quite afternoon yet but the shadows were already different, the fan raising goosebumps on his cooling back.

“A bit more than an hour till they’re due to come back,” Geonhak said, twisting to meet Youngjo’s dark eyes, “I bet I can bring you off at least one more time.”

Youngjo laughed, full-throated and surprised as Geonhak flipped over and pinned him down again.

“You’re on,” he said before Geonhak cut off the rest of his words with a kiss.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Was that a hint of Mingi/Hwanwoong? You bet it was.
> 
> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/leewoong)//[CC](curiouscat.me/hwansloth)
> 
> Comments keep me writing, so tell me what you think?


End file.
